


The Nature of Man

by facetofcathy



Series: Inversion [3]
Category: Actor RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, BDSM, Bondage, D/s, Keptverse, Kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-05
Updated: 2010-02-05
Packaged: 2017-10-07 01:13:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/facetofcathy/pseuds/facetofcathy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kyle tries to figure out just what kind of place he's ended up in. (Issues of consent, see series description for details.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Nature of Man

**Author's Note:**

> This is an unfinished series, and will likely remain so.

Ben rubbed a hand lightly over Michael's ass. The skin was hot against his palm, and Michael made a pleased humming sound at the touch. Ben rubbed his other hand against his own denim-clad erection; beating Michael would never not turn him on. He grabbed the large knob of the stainless steel plug in Michael's ass and twisted it, making Michael buck up off the bed, moaning. Ben liked using the metal plug; it's large knob-end made for easy target practice with the leather strap, and Michael made the best sounds when the blows landed against the hard steel. "What do you need, Master Michael?" Ben said, twisting the plug back to it's original position.

"Fuck me please, I need it," Michael said.

"Hard, Master Michael? Should I fuck you hard?" Ben knew the answer, but he still wanted to hear it.

"Yes, please. I need it—please, Ben."

"I know what you need, Master Michael," Ben said and set about unbuckling the leather restraints on Michael's ankles and wrists. He prodded Michael into rolling over and refastened his wrists to the headboard. Michael was pliant and warm, half lost inside his own head, and he let Ben manhandle him into the wall-mounted harness that pulled his legs up and apart without seeming to notice or offering much in the way of help. Ben considered using more restraints, even tying Michael to the bed so he was completely immobile, but he decided he didn't really need to since he was going to be right here the whole time. He stood back from the bed and admired Michael—trussed up, cock hard against his belly, ass and thighs red from the beating he'd just taken so well. He didn't even seem to notice when Ben crossed the room and opened the door.

Kyle was waiting as instructed. He was naked, and his clean hairless torso gleamed golden in the lamp light. His hair curled over his forehead and partially obscured his eyes, but the sneer that he usually greeted Ben with was gone. Instead, he was nearly vibrating with anticipation. Ben stepped aside and motioned Kyle forward into Michael's bedroom. Kyle stopped and stared at Michael—red-assed and tied up. He turned an uncertain face to Ben, who smiled and crossed to the bed. He climbed up beside Michael and tapped on the plug. Michael moaned and opened his eyes. "I have something for you, Master Michael, something you need," Ben said.

"Still have clothes on," Michael complained.

"Yes, Master Michael, but I have what you need right here." Ben motioned to Kyle to come closer, and the boy moved slowly forward.

Michael saw his body slave, and his eyes focused and darkened. "No, fuck no. Ben, what the hell–"

Ben slapped his hand over Michael's mouth and said, "I will gag you if I have to." He turned and waved Kyle up onto the bed. Kyle climbed up and knelt at the edge, hands motionless on his thighs, and his gaze cast down. Ben sat up so he could run his hand up Kyle's naked back. The kid shuddered, a barely visible tremor that ran through his whole body, but he didn't flinch. "Kneel up," Ben told him.

Kyle rose up, and Ben pulled lightly on his hands. Kyle obediently tucked his hands behind his back, and Ben held his slender wrists easily in one hand. He stroked Kyle with his other hand, down his smooth chest and over to one hip, and then he cupped Kyle's balls lightly. "Look at him, Master Michael. Look at his cock."

Michael flicked a glance at Kyle and looked away, shutting his eyes tightly.

"You want it, don't you?" Ben said evenly.

Michael shook his head.

"Master Michael," Ben said in warning. Michael's ass was angry red, but he wouldn't hesitate to go another round if that's what Michael needed to admit to the truth, and Ben knew it was truth—Michael would never have been so unsettled by Kyle, otherwise.

"Yes, dammit. You fucking bastard, Ben—fuck. Yes, I want it," Michael said and then turned his head back and stared at Kyle. The kid was quite a sight—golden and sleek with the stark silver of the steel collar naturally drawing the eye.

"You always want it," Ben said with a smile. Michael relaxed a fraction and nodded in acknowledgment. "You have to tell _him_ that," Ben said and stroked Kyle again.

Michael grimaced but managed to get out the words, "Fuck me, Kyle," and then his eyes went wide when Kyle responded to the command like a horse released from the starting gate.

Kyle sprang over to kneel between Michael's trussed up legs, and he had the steel plug out of Michael's ass so fast that Ben barely had time to snatch up the lube and toss it over. Kyle slicked himself up and pressed against Michael.

Ben sprawled on the bed, giving himself a nice view of Kyle's frown of concentration as he slowly pushed in. "Kyle," he said, "it's not possible to fuck that ass too hard." Kyle looked up, shock plain on his face for an instant before one corner of his mouth twitched and he slammed into Michael—not hard enough, but better than he'd been doing.

Michael groaned appreciatively, and Ben rested his head on Michael's bound arm and turned to whisper in his ear, "The boy needs some encouragement, Master Michael. If you want it hard and fast, you'd better tell him."

Michael made an irritated noise, and Ben had spoiled him, obviously, since he rarely had to actually say what he wanted.

"I want to hear the words come out of you mouth, Master Michael," Ben said, not trying to whisper this time.

"Yeah," Michael said, as Kyle pulled out and slammed back in. "That's it—fuck, harder—yeah please, harder." Michael kept up the encouragement while Kyle gave what he probably thought was the hardest fucking he dared.

When Michael's words deserted him, Ben picked up the slack. "Kyle, come on, you can do better than that. Pound that ass. Make sure he feels it. Make sure he remembers tomorrow how hard his body slave can fuck."

Ben's taunting spurred Kyle on to putting his back into it a bit more, and he finally hit a rhythm hard enough and fast enough to make Michael come without a hand ever touching his cock. Michael was groaning as his come spurted across his chest, and Kyle was making a keening noise that was almost painful to the ears. Ben watched his face as he pounded into Michael a few more times, obviously trying to keep control. Ben had been afraid the kid would need to be told to come, but he lost his control beautifully—face melting into bliss like he'd seen the face of god, which, all things considered, wasn't too surprising since the kid had fucked a man about three times ever and never like that.

Kyle didn't collapse onto Michael when his body finally stopped moving; he was too well trained for that, and Ben put that on the list of things to work on since Michael liked the full weight of a body spread out on him. Kyle pulled out with painstaking care, and crawled backwards off the bed. He swayed, caught his balance and then turned and headed for the bathroom. He was back quickly with a wash cloth, and he crawled back onto the bed and carefully cleaned Michael's ass. Michael whimpered a little when the cloth scraped against his inflamed skin, but Kyle didn't know enough to rub hard on purpose.

Ben reached up to unhook the leg harness, and Michael slowly lowered his legs to the bed with Kyle's help. Kyle tossed aside the cloth and then crawled up Michael's body; he hovered on all fours over Michael, flicking his gaze between the two of them, clearly not sure who to took to for instruction. Michael was pretty much out of it, so Ben nodded at the mess of come on Michael's chest, and Kyle grinned at him before bending his head to lick Michael clean.

"Jesus, fuck," Michael said and managed to open his eyes to watch.

Ben agreed with the sentiment, and so did his dick still trapped in his jeans. He figured he didn't need the authority of the partially clothed man amongst the naked anymore, so he gingerly peeled off his pants. He flopped his head back onto Michael's arm, and when Kyle was done cleaning Michael up, he said, "Come on kid, lets see what else that mouth can do."

Kyle looked up, gaze flicking uncertainly between him and Michael again, but Michael stayed silent or was just too blissed out to talk.

Ben glared at the kid and said, "I'm not so far gone, I can't turn you over my knee and get your ass as red as Master Michael's there. Get to it." Ben noted the flicker of interest on Kyle's face at the threat as well as Michael's indrawn breath, and he filed that plan away for another day. Christ, but his life had just gotten complicated. Kyle obeyed him with almost no further hesitation, and Ben got to experience a blow job from a trained body slave for the first time. The kid was good—almost as good as Michael.

Michael let Kyle go back to his own room for the night, and Ben didn't like that, but he wasn't in a mood to argue, so he added that to the list too. "You good, Master Michael?" he asked.

"Yeah," Michael turned and pressed close to Ben, wrapping an arm around his waist. "I'm not going to tell you you were right since your ego needs no boosting."

"Stubborn bastard, aren't you?"

"Always, and it was good. It was—it's just..." Michael shifted a little and scratched his nails down Ben's chest, parting the hair into tracks. "I don't like the whole pretty boy look, all waxed and smooth and painted, and the fucking hair flopping in his face drives me nuts."

"So tell him, _Master_ Michael. Tell him to get a haircut and stop with the waxing."

"Huh, yeah, I sort of can, can't I?"

"You will drive me to drink, Master Michael." Ben sighed dramatically.

"Oh, fuck off, how many cases of bourbon a month are we going through now?"

"Fuck off, yourself."

Michael ignored him and said, "I don't mind some waxing."

"Balls," Ben said.

"Absolutely," Michael said with conviction, and then more thoughtfully, "Do you suppose he's ever been rimmed?"

Ben grinned into the darkness and called that fish well and truly landed. "In training a few times but not since," he said.

"I'm thinking a little perversion therapy is in order," Michael said and smirked at his own joke.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, you beat his really very nice little ass for a while, and then I'll work him over for a bit and so on and so on..."

"Oh, fuck yeah, that's an excellent plan."

"Thank you, Ben. It's nice to be appreciated occasionally," Michael said.

"Shut up and go to sleep or I'll appreciate your ass some more right now."

"See me quake in fear," Michael said and yawned into Ben's shoulder.

* * *

Ben was sprawled on the leather sofa in the den and studying the really, really pompous manifesto of a radical nationalist group that had popped up in the west. Michael had looked at the print out, said _Albertans_ like it was the worst insult a man could offer and stalked out of the room. Ben read through to the end, entertained by their delusions of grandeur, then tossed the pages in the direction of the recycle bin. He looked up and saw a blur of white and black in the doorway. He yanked off his reading glasses, and the blur resolved into Kyle—dressed in a tight black sweater and jeans, his bare feet poking out beneath the dark denim. Ben tipped his chin up in inquiry but kept his mouth shut.

"May I?" The kid finally said, gesturing at some indeterminate space in the room.

"Sure, kid," Ben said, and saw not a flicker of reaction to his use of the nickname.

Kyle wandered into the room, hips moving with a bit of a slink while he looked around uncertainly. He ended up pulling the big leather ottoman over in front of Ben, and then he climbed on to kneel with his hands resting steady on his thighs and his eyes downcast. The kid really was a master of the symbolic gesture. "I thought I told you I wasn't your fucking master," Ben said, pouring a little more irritation into his voice than was real.

"Sir," The kid said; he'd seemed to settle on the term sometime in the middle of their talk the previous day. Ben wasn't sure if he liked it, but then he wasn't exactly asking for permission to call him kid either. "Sir, I would like to talk to you."

"Yeah," Ben said insolently, "well I think maybe you should actually look at me then."

Kyle shuddered, holding in his own irritation maybe, and looked up.

Ben grinned at him and sprawled out more comfortably against the leather, spreading his legs wide. He could manage the occasional gesture himself.

The kid smiled at him with a weak and crooked twist of his lips. "I really don't understand you," he said.

"But you enjoyed yourself last night," Ben said.

Kyle frowned. "Well of course, but–"

"I don't mean you got off, kid. I mean you actually enjoyed yourself, not just that you did what you were trained to do. You fucked Master Michael and you enjoyed it."

Kyle flushed at his blunt words, but his eyes narrowed into a bit of a glare too, and he snapped, "I seem to recall you enjoying yourself too."

Ben smirked and nodded. "Yeah, kid, you give great head."

It was like he'd jabbed the kid with a cattle prod. His eyes flew open and the old familiar sneer twisted his lips, "You fucking–"

And, Ben didn't bother to let him finish. He lashed out with one booted foot and kicked the kid right in the chest, not too hard, just hard enough to send him flying off the ottoman to sprawl on his ass. Ben stood up and kicked the ottoman aside. He leaned down over the kid, who was still down on his ass not over the shock yet. Ben reached down and got a fist full of sweater and denim waistband and hauled the kid upright. He noticed him looking at the bulge of muscles in his arm, and he had to chuckle. Had the kid really been so stupid as to not look past the lines on his face and the flecks of grey in his hair? When Ben had the kid on his feet, he let go of his clothes and grabbed his wrist instead. He pinned the kid's arm behind his back with one hand and tilted his head back with a hard grip in his hair. Kyle was up on his tiptoes, pressed tight against Ben's chest. His face was flushed, and his eyes were dark with too much rage for even a slave to keep hidden. He also had a very big hard-on that was pressing into Ben's hip, which made Ben chuckle again before he pushed his way into the kid's mouth and made himself to home. When he'd had enough, he pushed the kid away and let him stumble to a stop in the middle of the room. "Wipe the spit off your face, kid," Ben said.

"Who the fuck do you think you are," the kid said and ran the back of his hand over his mouth. He didn't wipe hard enough to take off the sneer though.

"I know exactly who and what I am, kid. Though, right now, I seem to be the guy who gets you so hard you're about to come in your pants."

Kyle glowered and stood stalk still, a look of intense concentration on his face like he was trying to will his traitorous erection away, and who knows, maybe he could actually do it.

Ben sighed, letting the exhale whistle through his nose. He'd helped old Stevie train up the new colts one summer when he was about ten. Stevie and his cronies, slaves every one of them, had cracked jokes about how they could teach Commerce a thing or two about training up a spirited animal, and Ben really hoped the lessons hadn't faded with the years. "Easy now, Kyle," Ben said in the voice he'd learned from old Stevie. "Just, take it easy now, kid. Why don't you come on over here and talk, if that's what you need."

Ben kept his eyes locked on Kyle, and the kid took a hesitant step and then another.

"Yeah, that's it, come on." Kyle took another step and Ben reached out, slow and easy, telegraphing all his moves and slid his palm up from the kid's hip and under the soft black knit of his sweater. "Now, kid, why don't we start over without all those pretty moves of yours and those practiced little looks."

Kyle had the grace to show a little guilt at that, and Ben shook his head and pulled him in closer. If he was being honest with himself, he had to admit that putting his hands all over the kid had stopped being about anything other than what he wanted sometime the night before. "You don't need to play me, kid," he said.

"Okay," Kyle said, and he almost sounded like he meant it. "Um–" Kyle placed a hand on Ben's chest that looked tentative, and maybe it was, but Ben was not so far gone he was ever going to forget what the kid was. "I—can I kiss you again?"

Ben also wasn't such a cynic that the soft hesitant tone didn't make his dick jump up and say yes before his mouth did. He let Kyle take the lead for a while—let him kiss him too soft and easy. Ben got both hands up under the sweater and stroked the hot smooth skin, firm and certain, just like he'd been taught.

"Fuck, that's hot," Michael said from the doorway, and Kyle erupted away from Ben and leapt to the side another pace and dropped to his knees. Ben winced at the thought of the kid's jeans pressed tight over his dick and the slam his knees had made hitting the floor. "Hey, hey," Michael said, "don't let me interrupt."

"Master," Kyle said, voice full of mortification, and Ben was afraid the kid was going to press his forehead to the damn floor.

"Shit, Kyle, get up," Michael said, embarrassment making his voice sharp.

"Master," the kid said, "I–" He shook his head, and his face was white enough, Ben was more worried now that he was going to puke.

Michael strode across the room and sank to his knees in front of the kid, graceful in the act from his own willing practice rather than any training. Ben wasn't sure this was the right move, but he was willing to let Michael have his play.

"Kyle," Michael said and gently tipped the kid's face up. He left his palms against the kid's jaw, and he softly kissed his forehead. "I'm not very good at this. I forgot the things I should tell you. I don't—I don't–" Michael sighed and dropped his head to rest his forehead against the kid's, and Ben let out the breath he'd been holding. He'd been terrified that Michael had been going to say he didn't own the kid, and Ben was pretty sure the kid wasn't quite at the point where he'd find that funny the way Ben had. "Kyle," Michael said, voice strong and commanding again, "look at me." He opened his eyes and blinked at Michael, and Michael said, "You can do anything you want with Ben, whenever you want, okay?"

"Master?"

"I mean it Kyle. Anything, anytime. Just remember," and Michael turned a sardonic face Ben's way, "when he gets too pushy, you _can_ tell him to fuck off."

"Yes, Master," Kyle said with something like the normal amount verve in his voice, "but I just want to serve you."

Michael snorted in amusement. "Kyle, that's not something you ever need to explain to me, okay? I just, I forget sometimes." Michael grinned and moved his hand to run it through the flop of hair over Kyle's forehead. "If you want to do something for me, you can get a haircut."

"Master?"

"Explain it to him, Ben, would you please?" Michael had turned to look at Ben so he missed Kyle's boggling at the word please.

"Sure thing, Master Michael," Ben said, and Michael stood and pulled Kyle up to stand tucked against his side.

"I actually came in here just to tell you I was going out for a while, so why don't you guys go back to what you were doing." Michael gave Kyle a gentle shove in Ben's direction and headed back out the door. "Oh," he said, turning back at the doorway, "Kyle, if we're not too much for you, we'd like it if you'd sleep with us from now on."

Ben watched Michael stride out the door, and then he turned to look at Kyle. The kid looked wrung out. "Kid," Ben said in a nice light tone. "Why don't we hold off on the talking for a while. I think we should go to your room and see if I can't do something about that really impressive hard-on you've still got. I might not be in your league, but people are always saying I have a big mouth so..." Ben was pleased that the kid actually laughed at him.

They were half-way down the hall when Ben said, in the same tone, "Kid, you got anything against a little recreational bondage?"

"Jesus," Kyle said, "you are actually trying to make me come in my pants, aren't you?"

Ben laid the kid out on his bed and tied him to the headboard with a hastily jury-rigged set-up using a couple of truly hideous ties left by some former occupant of the room. The same drawer that yielded the ties had a collection of scarves, and one of those made for a usable blindfold. Ben cranked the heat up in the room and settled down to suck the kid nice and slow. He kept his hands on the kid's body, stroking his belly and his legs the whole time. The kid came with a soft sound of pleasure that sounded real enough, and then he drifted into sleep. Ben left him tied and blindfolded for a while, wanting to give the kid time to settle. He ducked out long enough to get something to read along with his glasses, and he spent the rest of the afternoon sitting on the bed, turning pages and occasionally stroking the soft skin of the body beside him.

Eventually, the kid was fully awake and getting restless, so Ben untied him and let him sit up and pull the blindfold off. He blinked into the glare of the lamp and then smirked at Ben's glasses. Ben snatched them off his face and tossed them onto the nightstand. "You trying to make me put you over my knee?"

Kyle's face went still, but his pupils flared wide, and Ben laughed at him. "Yeah, maybe," Kyle said, suddenly full of bravado.

"Here's an idea, let's save that for later, because Master Michael would go wild watching that."

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah, trust me on that kid. You are going to become the most well practiced switch in the history of the Empire."

"I do, trust you, I think," Kyle said slowly, "but..."

"But?"

"The Master. I don't understand how—I mean, I like him I do. I've never had a master like him before, but _how_ can you trust him, how can _you_? He's still–"

"He's still the owner and we're still the slaves, kid. That's what you're trying to say."

"Yeah."

"Kid, how to you trust any man? You choose do. You trust him until he does something to lose that trust, and then you deal with it how you need to."

"But that's my point," Kyle said and frowned. "If you trust him, and he betrays you–"

"I know kid, but so far he hasn't, and that's all I got to offer you." Ben let the kid think that over for a bit.

"I meant that, you know—what I said before. I've never had sex with anyone I actually wanted to until now, and I thought—last night, I thought that was just playing. I didn't realize that's how he is, how you both are. It's a bit overwhelming, actually."

"Shit," Ben said and pinched the bridge of his nose. He'd heard more than he ever wanted to about how a body slave is trained the night before, when he'd been primarily concerned with talking the kid into Michael's bed. "I don't know what to tell you. You're worried he's going to sell you or something?" Kyle nodded and Ben sighed. "You're talking to the wrong guy on that score. I only ever had one owner before Master Michael, so–"

"But, Sir, you're..."

"An old man, kid?" Ben laughed when the kid ducked his head and blushed. Damn, but the little shit was pretty when he did that. "I was born and raised on a farm, Kyle. I lived there most of my life."

Kyle just shook his head, maybe he thought Ben was making it up. What did someone like him know about farms anyway? "Come on, kid," Ben said, rolling off the bed. Lets go get that hair of yours looked after before Master Michael comes home. He hates the way you look now, so we'll lop off all those curls, and you can stop getting every fucking square inch of yourself waxed too." Ben grinned at the look on Kyle's face. "Don't worry, kid—if you're afraid you'll miss the pain, I'll take care of that for you." Ben reached out and pinched one of Kyle's nipples hard, and he make a squeak of pleasure so Ben did it again. "Who knows, you stop looking so smooth and sleek, and maybe I'll stop calling you kid."

Ben dragged Kyle naked down the hall and into the master bathroom and sat him down in front of the mirror and chopped off the worst of the thick curls before he got out the clippers.

Kyle watched in horrified fascination as the hair dropped off to tumble over his shoulders to the floor.

"Those pretty lips of yours are even more noticeable now, kid," Ben said. Kyle squirmed a little in the chair at those words, so Ben decided to have a little fun. "Master Michael's got a bit of a plan for you," he said.

Kyle's eyes went wide.

"He wants to tie you down, and we already know you like that—but face down this time. He wants to take turns on you—he's got these democratic principles, you see." Ben switched out to a longer guard on the clippers to do the top of Kyle's head. "Almost a shame to cut this off. Made for a nice firm grip."

Kyle started to shift around a little again, so Ben rapped his knuckles on the kid's head and told him to be still. Kyle obeyed him, but his cock sure looked like it had a mind of it's own.

"Yeah, so the plan," Ben continued, keeping an eye on the weather vane of Kyle's interest. "Taking turns. Michael wants to see what the leather strap does to that nice ass of yours, and then, when you need a little respite, well Michael has a thing for giving rim jobs."

Kyle's cock stood up at that, and Ben hid a smile as he bent over to focus on the last few strokes with the clippers.

"See, he likes to spread your ass open and get real deep. He can go at it forever too. It's—well, it's indescribable really. He's made me come a couple of times just doing that."

Ben knocked the hair out of the clippers and put them away. He turned back around to see Kyle desperately gripping the base of his cock. "Shit, kid, did I just about make you come from talking to you?"

"Fuck off," Kyle said, red flush of embarrassment high on his cheeks.

"Ah, now kid, is that anyway to talk to the man who's going to beat you later?"

"Fuck off, _Sir_," Kyle said and closed his eyes while he tried to get himself under control.

Ben ran his hand against the grain of the kid's hair just to rile him up some more. "Tell you what, kid. You get cleaned up and sweep up in here and then come on through, and I'll tie you down nice and tight so you don't have to worry about any temptations." Ben smirked at the reaction that got.

"You are such an asshole, Sir." Kyle stood up, and Ben was impressed to see he could actually walk over to the cupboard to pull out a broom and begin sweeping. The mundane task cooled him down some, but when Ben told him that cleaning up also meant a thorough clean of his asshole, the kid was fully hard again before he even started running the water.

Ben directed him into the master bedroom when he was done and told him to get right in the centre of the bed. "Face down, kid. Flat on your belly."

Kyle shot him a look and gingerly lowered himself to the bed. Ben found a set of restraints small enough for his wrists and ankles and just had him secure when Michael appeared in the doorway. "Just in time, Master Michael. I was getting ready to warm up his ass a bit. Just remember, kid—you come before you're told, and it'll be the last time for a week."

"Asshole," Kyle mumbled against the bed covers and Michael snickered.

Ben, my boy, he told himself, your authority is slipping away on you so you best do something about that. Luckily he had a few variations on Michael's plan in mind that should keep both of his boys sore and happy for a few days. He wasn't delusional enough to think it was going to have a lasting effect on their willful natures though.


End file.
